The unwritten, unspoken implication seemed clear. She was a female, she was an outsider, and she was not competent to run an investigation of this importance.
This new lead had been a godsend. She’d sent Marc Montoya to pick up the stripper, Eva Hazard, and another day shift deputy to pick up the bartender and bring him in for a full, signed statement. But the excitement of the lead had quickly waned. Eva hadn’t answered her door, and Marc hadn’t been able to determine if she was even home. Shelby ultimately had sent Marc back to the stripper’s house in an undercover car.
The other deputy had delivered the bartender, Ernie Raco, but he was a less than desirable witness. A record check on Raco revealed not only a number of moving violations on his driving record, but a citation issued three years earlier for serving a minor and arrests prior to that for disorderly conduct and vandalism. Raco was forty, a heavy smoker with a Fu Manchu mustache and a receding hairline. Shelby had monitored his interview. Raco admitted that he routinely had drinks during his shift when a patron would buy him one. His identification of Kyle Carver as the man who had created a scene with Eva seemed positive, but Raco wasn’t sure who else, if anyone, had noticed the disturbance. It meant trying to identify and track down as many employees and regulars as possible and interviewing all of them.
At three in the afternoon Shelby had driven Jason Rody out to Eva’s to try another door knock. Failing success with that, she left Jason as relief for Marc and drove Marc back to the office. Marc didn’t say one word to her on the short drive.
So different from a year ago. After her uncle had died, Shelby had turned to Marc for support, but it had been the beginning of the end of their relationship. Marc hadn’t minded offering her a sympathetic ear or a shoulder to cry on as long as they were in bed and other body parts were involved as well. But his caring hadn’t extended past the bedroom door.
When they had arrived back at the county building, Seline had handed her a handful of phone messages.
“Anything urgent in here?”
Seline’s eyes had darted around the room before she answered. “Dr. De Chaux called for you. He wants you to call him at his office.”
“Thanks, Seline.”
Seline’s dark eyes brimmed with understanding. Surly Seline the Goth Queen obviously knew what it was like to be ridiculed. She was the only one in the office who had looked at Shelby lately with something other than a pasted-on smile, a tacked-on look of tolerance, or an ill-disguised air of condescension.
Marc had heard the exchange, and the look on his face could substitute for the building’s air conditioning.
Shelby had debated for over an hour on whether or not she should break the late date with Ric. He was quickly becoming her daily fix. A dose of the doctor seemed to be all she needed for an all-purpose, feel-good high. A spoonful of Doc French’s patented, aged-to-perfection sagacity, a booster shot of his strength, and an eyeful of one of his shy smiles were all she needed to banish her blues. And what his body did to hers should be banned as an addictive drug.
But today’s workday was far from over, and she still had hopes that Eva Hazard could be located for questioning. She didn’t dare count on a late date with so much going on at work. So it was with much regret that she returned his call and cancelled their Moonlight Madness date for tonight. Ric seemed to take it well, understanding that in both their professions, work emergencies took precedence over personal concerns. In fact, he was rather sweet about the whole thing, not only wishing her luck, but offering to help.
If only my own staff was so eager to work with me and not against me . . .
RIC CALLED EVA’S home number to leave her a warning message. As expected, he got an answering machine.
“Hi . . . this is Eva. Sorry, but I don’t come out to play until after the sun goes down. But if you absolutely can’t wait ’til then, leave a message.”
Ric groaned. He supposed there was no real harm in the recording, but if any of his charges were inclined to trouble, it was no doubt Eva. “Eva, this is Ric De Chaux. Listen carefully. There’s an unmarked police vehicle parked outside your house—a white four-door with tinted windows. They want to pick you up for questioning regarding Kyle Carver’s murder. Apparently one of the bartenders at the Diamond Stud told the sheriff he had seen you in some kind of altercation with Carver before he died. Don’t leave the house or answer the door until you talk to me. Call me at home as soon as you get this message.”
Ric hung up the phone in disgust, but he was more upset with himself than with Eva. Eva was Eva, and her behavior today was probably no different than it was decades ago. But he had been remiss in his duty. He should have had a private meeting with her days ago. Instead, he had postponed his session with her to take his pleasure with Shelby.
He considered his options with Eva, and none of them were overly appealing. He could compel the deputy at Eva’s house to report that he was unable to make contact with Eva, but Shelby would just keep sending deputies to the house until one was successful. He couldn’t keep Eva in her house indefinitely, and even if he got her out of the house and to work without the deputy being aware, they would eventually track her down at the Diamond Stud.
It would be dangerous in any case to try to compel the deputy on the road. It was a secluded area, but passersby and neighbors were still a risk. Ric knew his appearance was unique, and anyone happening to see him would not likely forget him.
He was afraid that the best option was the riskiest of all—to let Eva go downtown and be questioned, and to trust that she would give the right answers and be able to compel her interviewers to believe she was telling the truth. However, Eva’s statement would likely be written down. Someone who hadn’t been compelled might read the statement in the future and not be convinced that Eva had no involvement in the murder. But by far the biggest peril was the immediate one—that something would go wrong and Eva be taken into custody. If she were unable to escape before dawn, chances were good that she’d perish in the daylight. Eva was not created from the unique diurnal vampire strain that enabled Ric and Tux to tolerate the light.
Worse, he had the strange feeling that Eva would find the danger to be just another wickedly exciting game. After all, her name was Hazard—a moniker that Ric was certain she wasn’t born with.
When Tuxbridge arrived two hours later and heard the plan, he wasn’t amused. “You want Eva to do what?”
Ric stared at his adjutant with unblinking eyes. “If you have a better idea, I’m listening.”
Tux’s stare was just as steady. “It should have never gotten this far.”
“I agree. This county was without an Overlord for far too long. The young ones have been behaving like spoiled, willful children, doing as they please without worrying about the consequences. Well, the consequences are here now, and we have to deal with them.”
Tux’s green eyes glowed. “That’s out of line, Ric, and you know it. The rogue already confessed to sticking the body in the privy hole, and there’s no proof that any of us, including Eva, has done anything wrong.”
“And neither is any of this my fault, as you seem to suggest. Once again, if you have a better idea, I’ll listen. If not, we do things my way.”
But Tux, for all his snorting and hoof pounding, had nothing to offer. Instead, they discussed Eva’s merits—not those that Ric imagined that human males took quick note of—but her vampiric attributes of command and manipulation. Tux admitted, albeit somewhat grudgingly, that appearance aside, Eva had all the tools to be as cunning and crafty as any vamp around. Remembering Eva’s mystic eyes, Ric thought it likely that she could stare a human to death as easily as any male vampire.
She called on the phone a few minutes later, and Ric answered on the first ring. “De Chaux.”
“Eva Hazard here, Doc, reporting as ordered.” The kittenish voice was teasing even in this situati
on.
“Eva, is the white car still parked across the road?”
“It sure is. Want me to go out and dazzle him? I can have him forgetting his mother’s name in one minute and his pants off in two.”
Ric served no deity except Mistress Death, but he prayed for patience anyway. “No. Just listen to me for a minute, will you? The bartender at the Diamond Stud told the sheriff he saw you in some kind of argument with Kyle Carver, the man who was killed. We need to make this go away, Eva, but subtly, understand? If we do something to the deputy outside your house, they’ll just send someone else.”
“I can do subtle, Chief. I can do it any way you want it.”
He sighed. “Then pay attention. Let them take you in for questioning. As for whatever happened in the bar with Carver, answer as truthfully as you can without implicating yourself in a crime. We don’t know how many witnesses they have who saw what you did, and even if we did, we can’t compel all of them. Just make sure, of course, that you deny any knowledge of the murder. When you’re finished with your statement, go ahead and compel anyone present to believe you told the truth and that you know nothing more. Understand?”
“This is child’s play, but don’t treat me like a child. I know what I have to do.”
Somehow that didn’t do much to reassure Ric. “Tux and I will be right outside the building in the parking lot. We’ll make sure you’re out of there well before dawn. If something should go wrong and they take you into custody, use your phone call to call me. Don’t try to handle things on your own.”
“Aye, aye, Chief. Can I get dressed now?”
“Just follow your normal routine. I’ll see you after your interview.”
“Ooow. I can’t wait.”
He hung up, resisting the urge to slam the receiver down.
One side of Tuxbridge’s mouth twisted down. “I don’t think you made a fan, boss.”
“I’m not here to start a fan club. We’re going to need a vehicle for our wait in the parking lot. The sheriff knows my SUV, and she knows both your truck and your Plymouth. Any ideas?”
“I’m sure Dory will be only too happy to lend us his wheels for a few hours.”
“Let me guess. It’s not a coupe, is it?”
Tux smiled for the first time all evening. “No, it’s a van, actually. Front doors, sliding panel doors, a rear door, and a moon roof.”
“Excellent. Let’s go.”
Forty-five minutes later Ric and Tux were comfortably ensconced in Dory’s van in the county building’s parking lot. The full-size van was almost as big as Dory’s house and featured almost as many doors. There was also a bed in the rear, as well as two TV screens and a premium sound system. The windows were all tinted and adorned with both blinds and curtains of the room-darkening type. Dory had been gracious in lending his van, but he had begged to be allowed to come along on the outing. Ric would have let him come except for the fact that he didn’t think he could stand several hours of Dory’s nonstop fawning and chattering.
Tux, on the other hand, wasn’t one to babble. Ric would have enjoyed several hours of quiet but felt it was an opportunity to glean information from his adjutant that shouldn’t be wasted. “Tux, tell me more about the group. Why do they live here? Surely it would be easier for them in the anonymity of a big city.”
“It would. Especially for Eva, who can be, shall we say, precocious. You know, I think this is the first time you’ve asked me about your new children in any context other than as suspects in your little murder investigation.”
Once again Ric felt a subtle but definite challenge in Tux’s attitude. When this whole affair was over, he’d have to have a face-to-face with Tuxbridge that involved more than mild words. This wasn’t the time or place, though.
“It’s hard to find time for social pleasantries when murder hits this close to home. But you didn’t answer my question,” Ric said softly. “What are they doing here?”
“They’re not a litter of newborns you can generalize about. Each has his own reasons for being here. Dory has family ties in the area that date back two centuries. Lyle and Zada are wanderers. They share a trailer home and keep a low profile. They’ve only been here a year, and by this time next year I suspect they’ll be gone.”
“And Eva?”
“Ah, darling Eva. You may think her behavior outrageous, but considering the setting and job in which she works, her manners and actions fit right in.” Tux shrugged. “And you have to remember that with the exception of yours truly, all the vamps in the council come out only at night. In a community like this not a lot of people are out after the sun goes down. So, in a way, the vamps are safer here than they’d be in a big city that has a lively night life and more opportunities for human contact.”
Ric could appreciate Tux’s position. As adjutant, Tux had to try to please both the Overlord and the members of the group. It was often a game in itself, playing both sides against the middle. Ric wondered how many of Tux’s words just now were merely moves in the game.
Two hours later Ric saw Shelby exit the county building and head for her vehicle. She carried her duty bag on her right shoulder, and her left hand was massaging her neck. Her walk was slow, almost as if she were dragging herself across the parking lot. She tilted her head to the side, flung her loose hair behind her shoulder, and rubbed her neck again. Reason told Ric she was just tired, but the movements were so innocently seductive that he felt his own desire manifest itself in both his thoughts and his body’s physical reaction. He wanted nothing more than to forget Tux and Eva and follow Shelby home. A vision of everything he could do to relieve her stress, cramped muscles, and any other problem she had was so sudden and so vivid that he had his hand on the van’s door handle before his control doused the image and stayed his hand.
No. He mustn’t make a critical error now. His top priority was Eva, not Shelby, and Tux was eyeing him with a piercing stare that would miss nothing.
“You know, Ric, there are some in the group who say you’re as cold as your namesake, Doctor Death, but I see that when it comes to certain mortals, you’re not cold at all.”
Ric reined in his beast, but a soft growl was nonetheless evident in the undertone of his measured words. “Be very careful, my friend. That’s a vein you don’t want to open.”
Tux only smiled and shifted his gaze to the scene out the window, quiet now following Shelby’s departure.
Fifteen minutes later Eva swept out of the building’s entrance, her long legs as pale as her blond hair in the glare of the overhead lights. Ric opened the van’s door and signaled to her. She tossed her head in acknowledgment but took her time parading across the lot to the van. She feathered her fingers through her hair, ran her hands down the front of her skintight tank top, and even halted once to adjust the strap on one high-heeled shoe. Ric wasn’t sure if the movements were designed to irritate him, or simply a natural reaction of being freed from the confines of an odious human facility. A building with bars was no more popular with the Undead than with anyone else.
Eva made it to the van at last and with a graceful leap settled into the rear of the vehicle in spite of her tight miniskirt.
Ric held on to his patience. “Tux, drive us to my place. You can return the van to Dory after that. I’ll drive Eva home when I’m finished with her.” He turned back to Eva. “Everything went all right?”
Eva smiled and smoothed her skirt, which was already stretched tight and needed no attending. Eva’s hands didn’t stop with the material, though, but continued up and down her thighs. “Of course, Chief. I told you it was child’s play. They don’t know any more now than they did a couple hours ago, but they’re all going to go home with big smiles on their faces. All but the sheriff, that is. She’s nothing but a . . .”
“Eva.” There was enough warning wrapped around the single word that even the most o
btuse vamp couldn’t miss it.
Eva froze for a second, then slid her gaze towards Tux. “Sorry. I forgot that you . . . like her.” Eva’s smile widened, showing straight white teeth and dainty pointed fangs.
Ric felt like grinding his own teeth, but he restrained himself, turning his attention instead to the road. He would wait for the privacy of his home to question Eva further. Moments later, Tux pulled the van in front of the Chicken Palace, and Ric told Eva to wait for him by his front door.
He waited until she was at his door, then turned to Tux. “I’ll talk to you later.”
“Listen, Ric, I don’t want to tell you how to do your job, but make sure you know where your allegiance lies. Defending the sheriff in front of one of the group isn’t going to sit well. And don’t underestimate Eva. She’s no fool. None of us are.”
“Don’t worry, my friend. I don’t underestimate any of you.” He stepped from the van, closed the door, and slapped it, indicating Tux should take off.
Ric sighed, glided to the porch, and invited Eva inside.
AN HOUR LATER Ric was alone again. He had questioned Eva, taken her home, and was now, for the first time all night, able to relax. He would analyze the interview with Eva more thoroughly in the days to come. For now it was enough to know that she was not a suspect in the eyes of the police. He took a shower, and as his body loosened up under the pelting of the warm water, his mind relaxed as well, letting go of his thoughts of the none-too-enchanting Eva Hazard. No female vampire had ever appealed to him, and Eva, with her primping and strutting, downright disgusted him. Coming to Shelby’s defense in front of her had been a mistake, though—Tux had been right about that. Eva, repellent as she was, was one of his kind. He was accountable for her welfare. He had no responsibility to Shelby.
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